Page 87 of The Duke’s Wager

She looked down for a minute, her entire body clearly shivering with emotion. Edward waited, praying to God that she would look up, see his sincerity, and forgive him.

He knew when she finally looked up, that his prayers were unanswered.

“My father warned me against you. He said that you were bad company to keep, that your reputation preceded you, and that you left a trail of tears and dishonor in your wake. He was right. I was a fool, a silly little girl, to believe that you were more than the rumors claimed.”

Edward opened his mouth to refute this unfair accusation, but Lucy held her hand up to silence him.

“It is clear now to me… that everything in your life is a mere game. And I was foolish enough to allow it. But no more… I see you now for what you truly are.”

Edward was certain that his heart could not be broken more, cut deeper, than it was by her tears. He’d been wrong. Her cruel words made it worse.

“Beneath the prestige, the pretense, the promises… beneath all the sweet words, you are what you have always been. Rotten to the core.”

“Lucy…”

Edward’s voice was a broken whisper, but Lucy did not appear to care. She kept speaking in that strange, cruel tone.

“I’ve seen this before. With my mother. I have seen how a man ruined her, and I swore… I swore that I would never allow it! I would never allow a man to betray me in such a manner, to control me as she was, and yet… I did. I allowed you to turn me into a fool, but no more!”

It hurt to hear her compare him to her father, and Edward closed his eyes as though it could shield him from further pain.

“I pity you, Edward. I must admit, when I first found out about… When I first found out, I was hurt. Humiliated. But I will not waste a single tear on you. You, who vowed to block out the entire world… You do that, Edward. Block out the world, prevent yourself from experiencing any sort of love, any sort of happiness. Build your walls, close yourself off and wallow in your misery. It’s no less than what you deserve.”

She spoke these words in anger, she did not mean them. She could not mean them, Edward was certain of this. How could it all have gone so horribly wrong?

He reached for her in a desperate attempt to save something between them, but Lucy would not allow it. She evaded his grip once more and shook her head.

“Please, my lord, do not touch me. Do not reach for me, do not talk to me, do not even look at me. You have done enough. The least you could do now is stay away from me. I never want to see you again.”

She turned with these words, exiting the room hurriedly – leaving a devastated man in her wake. The devastation soon made way for rage as she disappeared from his sight.

There was only one person who could have – who would have – told her about the wager before he had the chance.

Julian Pembroke.

The man had messed with Edward’s life for a final time now. It was time he was taught a lesson.

It was time for Julian Pembroke to pay for what he had done.

CHAPTER THIRTY-THREE

Lucy was relieved to be home. After her confrontation with Edward, she had immediately rushed out to her father. When she had claimed to feel ill, he had agreed to head home at once. Lucy was rather surprised at how friendly he had been. He had made a big show of apologizing to the Duke and Duchess of course, playing the role of the perfect father rather well.

She was certain that he would have a scathing remark or angry retort at her insolence the second they boarded the carriage. To her surprise, she’d been wrong. He had ignored her completely. It was as though she did not exist.

Again, this was something to be grateful for. She had far too much on her mind to allow her father’s regular onslaught of abuse to make matters worse.

Edward had betrayed her – completely and utterly betrayed her. The pain of it shot through her once again, and she clutched at her heart frantically. She did not know that someone could experience this much hurt and still live.

Everything hurt: Her heart ached, her soul cried, and her head throbbed with a building headache.

She had believed him. How foolish she had been to trust a man – a man like Edward Lockhart. Perhaps her father was right about her. Perhaps she truly was nothing other than a fool who had fallen for empty words.

The thought stung and she bit down on her lower lip hard. This was when a girl needed her mother, she knew. She had no illusions about her father understanding or caring for heartache. What would her mother have done?

Would she have understood? Perhaps she’d have stroked her hair, whispered that all would be well. She might even have cried with her.

Well, Lucy reckoned with an angry sneer, I will never know now, will I?